


Taking a Day Off

by Merfilly



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 00:55:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7412104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ironhide and Ratchet actually get a day to spoil each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking a Day Off

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mmouse15](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmouse15/gifts).



> Dear Mouse, I hope this bit of quiet fluff is met with your approval, as you deserve the best.

Ironhide stepped back to admire his work. It had been… too long, he decided, since he'd been allowed to do this for Ratchet. Part of it was just the hectic nature of their lives. Part of it was that even when they had downtime, they both felt a duty to make certain everything was up to speed.

This time, though, Sideswipe had bullied Ironhide away from training and weapons inspection by taking those duties on for himself. Ironhide had to admit he was suspicious of Sideswipe's motives, but he wanted the time. He wasn't even beginning to ask what unholy cabal of powers had coincided to get Ratchet out of medical. 

He was just going to thank Primus, if that being had ever actually existed, that he had his lover right here, right now, and the time to spoil him.

"Feeling good?" he finally asked, content that he'd gotten the wax everywhere, that it was buffed in and sealed properly. Ratchet was beautiful to him, all that solid bulk and heft, but the shine job just enhanced Ratchet's colors perfectly.

The humans could produce useful products sometimes. Their many waxes were a luxury to the battle-worn mechs.

"Feels so damned sybaritic," Ratchet replied, moving to admire the shine, his voice a lazier rumble than usual. "Did you bring enough for me to do you?"

"I thought you did me this morning," Ironhide said without missing a beat. Human idioms had adapted to their language pretty easily too.

Ratchet glared at him, optics sparking with vexed amusement. "You're impossible."

"Yeah, but it's what you need." Ironhide relented and produced another container of the wax. "Here." He then sprawled back to enjoy the pampering. It was often easier to do a good wax job in alt mode, but the precisions and attention to detail needed to do it in root mode added to that feeling of being cared for in exquisite fashion.

They both needed to give and receive that feeling, and Ironhide knew it. So did Ratchet, which led the medic to set a very lazy pace in his own work, studying the responsiveness of the plating to the stroking, circling touches that worked the wax in.

"Annabelle all tied up in school this week?" Ratchet asked.

"Sure is. Testing of some kind. She prefers to bike or walk on campus, and didn't want me getting bored." Ironhide's voice had a softer edge to it, thinking of his human sparkling. She wasn't a sparkling by her species' standard, but Ironhide thought of her that way still. He'd slowed his sense of time passing down as far as he dared, internally, to better appreciate her on her time-frame, but it was still going too fast. That her creators shared that opinion eased his discomfort over it some.

"Glad to have you home, slagger," Ratchet told him, sending a quiet burst of sensory data out to his lover, just to make Ironhide groan and writhe.

"Wax first, Ratch, or I won't be still enough for you to get it all," Ironhide whined.

"Oh, I'll get it all when we're ready," Ratchet said with another little teasing datapacket.

"And you said I'm bad," Ironhide said with a laugh, even as he had to forcibly keep his ports closed. Later, later, later!

"No, I said you're impossible," Ratchet corrected, but he did tone down just how sensuous his strokes were, so that he could finish the waxing without either of them getting too worked up. "How about we roll out, just go somewhere in the open, away from base, after I finish?"

Ironhide made a quietly pleased noise at that. "Sure. I've got a decent holo-driver these days."

"Good." Ratchet hummed a tune, one from so long ago that he could name at least three different artists that had made it their iconic song to all of Cybertron, and Ironhide began thrumming the counterpoint for it. Otherwise, they were quiet again, letting Ratchet be as thorough in pampering as Ironhide had been.

When Ratchet put the wax away, Ironhide was as gleaming as he could get, and the transformation down to alt mode didn't harm either one's polish. Together, with Ironhide sporting a driver based on Epps' daughters and Ratchet using one that had been modeled on Mikaela, they rolled out to go find a suitable, quiet spot. 

That Ironhide revved his engine at Ratchet once they were on a mostly empty secondary road was just one more part of making this day solely about them, about forgetting the war and recovery for a bit. Ratchet let his own engine answer, before the pair were being as ridiculous and reckless as they scolded Bumblebee or Sideswipe for being. It wasn't until the road dead-ended on a gravel and dirt path that they thought about throttling back.

"Pretty abandoned out here," Ratchet said, unfolding to stand and look out over the landscape. Ironhide came to stand next to him, checking with sensors and optics alike. 

"Small non-sentients, but nothing human," Ironhide agreed, before striding out into the scrublands, away from the roads. "Can't get much more isolated, I think."

"Sounds like the best place to be right now." Ratchet followed him, walking until they were out of direct sight of the gravel or the paved roads. 

"Think we can stay and look at the stars tonight, head back in the morning?" Ironhide asked. Ratchet gave a low, warm chuckle at his lover.

"You assume I'm letting you do anything but keep me company all night long?" Ratchet asked him as he lowered himself down on the ground, after checking to be sure no small creatures were immediately at risk from his bulk. Ironhide dropped beside him, laying out flat with his helm on one of Ratchet's legs.

"Suits me, Ratch. Suits me perfectly." He shuttered his optics against the brightness of the sky, rumbling when Ratchet set his hand on the upper part of his helm.

"Almost feels like we're being… wasteful, to just go away and be like this," Ratchet told him truthfully, even as he was syncing their private bands to share their sensory inputs. 

"Look, you start on that, and I'm going to remember I'm the big, bad, gruff warrior who never, ever walks away from his Prime, and this is all over," Ironhide growled.

Ratchet considered that, considered how lucky he'd felt all day to have this stolen time with the mech he loved more than any other, despite carrying a piece of every single spark in their small group now. "You're right, 'Hide. And we've earned it."

"That's better," Ironhide said softly, before tuning his bands to share all he was feeling, all of his emotions and thoughts, with his lover. Ratchet gave a small noise of pleasure, and pushed all other thoughts far away.


End file.
